The Arkansaw traveler., 1887-11-26


 On the day when she felt her end approaching and that life was slowly leaving her, just as the oil in her china lamp gently sank on winters night, Mile. Aglae put aer skinny hands upon the head of her pug Mirza and shed copious tears, after which, turning to her faithful servant, Ger trude, she said in weak, sad voice:
 q am leaving you all my fortune, Gertrude, but on condition that, when am gone, you will take the same care of Mirza as I have done The poor creature will need all your affection to console her for my loss. Swear to me that death alone will separate you from her !"
 Gertrude swore on all that she held most dear, that is upon the remains of her parrot Leocadie, which she hsd sadly seen depart this life from the effects of too rash indulgence in pars- ley, and which the skill of taxider- mist had enabled her to preserve, upon gilded perch, with widespread wings, in the ecstatic attitude of a parrot winging it's flight to better world
 Mile. Aglae died peacefully after this, for she we'll knew that the pledge would be sacredly kept. Her confi- dence was not misplaced, as Gertrude was woman of her word, and the whole town of Briqueville was edified by the conscientious zeal she displayed in carrying out her mistress last wishes. Never had quadruped been the object of more delicate attention, nor of more unremitting kindness, than was this precious pug of Mile. Aglae. Not only did it have, at all times, on it's plate, food that would have satisfied nine out of every ten human beings, but it was watched over and petted to such an extent that no child could have desired happier existence. Its wardrobe consisted of about twenty coats, jackets and dresses, the making and fitting of which were to Gertrude a labor of love. She had prepared clothes for the animal suitable to all kinds of weather, and in dressing the creature she guided herself closely by the indi- cations of the thermometer hanging upon the window frame.
 The consequences of this kind of living were not long in coming. At the end of year Mirza died from the effects of plethora of health.
 Great and sincere was Gertrude's grief. She broke the set of her finest dozen of towels to shroud the icy re- mains of her friend. Then as she re- flected that she did not k.ow what to do with the dead animal, she became a prey to the most poignant anguish.
 In truth, sine was at loss as to what to do. Bury the remains in the garden? No, she could not muster up the courage to do that; the proximity of the grave would have afflicted her with an incurable melancholy. Where, then, would she put the pet? In the depth of her despair an inspi- ration flashed, lightning like, through her mind; the kind Monsieur Gre goire, the beadle of Saint Ursula's church, would assist her in this, her hour of sorrow. He was 90 good, so ODliS luS W lJuOut n uiOtucut 5 uc- lay she dispatched lad, her neigh bor's son, with a message, begging him to come immediately. Half an hour later MT. Gregoire arrived.
 He found the unfortunate Gertrude in the parlor, the blinds of which were closed, and which, by four lighted tapers, was transformed into kind of mortuary chapel. She was seated upon lounge, where, wrapped in it's white towel as if in a winding sheet, the pug lay stretched out on it's back. Somewhat moved by the sight, Monsieur GregoiTs do8aj his hat
 He was about to cross himself, when, with a sign, Mile. Gertrude stopped him. In few words, inter- mingled with sobs, she related her troubles and explained what she ex- pected of him.
 Especially" concluded she, "I wish you to bury the body far from here, and to keep me in ignorance of the spot, for if knew where to find the grave I would go every day and wear my eyes out in weeping over it.
 Monsieur Gregoire promised all that was asked.